Merry Shitscram
by irl-alfed
Summary: Just a little glimpse of what Christmas is like with the clown and the crab.


You push forward against him as you pull the blanket over both of you, wrists bent behind shoulders. He smiles up at you and every time he does that, no matter how used to it you are, it makes your heart falter and your cheeks redden. He giggles at your reaction, placing his hands on your back(you can barely feel his touch due to the excessive amount of sweater layers you have on) and pulling you down. He yanks just a little too hard and your chin rams into his chest. Damn, you felt that in your neck…

"Gahhh… Shit, I'm sorry bro," he says through slightly clenched teeth. He wrinkles his nose, which you can see for once; he took off his paint because of the holiday.

"It's fine. But I bit my fucking tongue because of you," you reply shortly, "So now once I finally forget about it I'll remember again and bite it, _again_, and be in agony for the rest of fucking winter break."

"You think I could make it feel better?" your stupidly enjoyable boyfriend asks with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. You aren't exactly sure what he he means by that, if any underlying messages are there in the first place.

"How the hell would you even do that? When this damn thing happens you just wait it out and-oh… Oh. Ugh, god fucking damnit, why did I not expect you to say something like that?" you sigh, rolling your eyes, your chin still resting on his chest. He laughs heartily and smiles.

"Well you gonna up and deny gettin' your hands on this badass sexy motherfucker right here?" he jokes, pointing at himself with both thumbs.

This actually makes you laugh pretty hard. It takes a lot to get you to snort(unlike Terezi who just inherited the trait of having the notable guffaw) but when you do it is entertaining to everyone and humiliating towards you. It flies out of you and you clamp a hand down over your mouth, still laughing, mind tumbling over your mortification and the hilarity of what Gamzee said. Gamzee sits up. leaning on his elbows, laughing and trying not to cough because he is obviously losing breath.

"You-" laughter. "You motherfuckin'-" more laughter. "Karbro, you snorted!"

"I know, shut up, you goddamned idiot! Jesus, just lay back down, I want to-" You shove him back down, still chuckling. You think about what you want to continue your sentence with but you can't so you just do what you were planning. You can feel Gamzee smile against your lips as you slide your arms underneath his neck, tangling in his curly hair. Luckily you made him was it the night before or this would not be as enjoyable. He secures one hand on your neck and the other in the middle of your back and reciprocates your procedures.

Gamzee, being Gamzee, always wants to please you. He's always trying to go out of his way to make you happy, which you don't think is entirely fair. You don't want him feeling like you're the priority in your relationship. You've watched enough romcoms to know that that's not how these things work. You've had countless talks with him about how you're usually fine with whatever he does for you as long as it's not completely inconsiderate or disrespectful, and he listens. But times like these are when you really appreciate him dialing in to what you like and avoiding what you don't. He knows just how to hold you, how to move his lips, when to stop without you saying anything and when to keep going. He can read you flawlessly, and maybe this is why you've been with him for so long; from sophomore year to second year of college obviously means that there is some chemistry going on that's not blowing up and spattering the lab with the messy, stain-prone remnants of the combustion in the beaker.

At this point you notice that the tips of his fingers are slowly moving their way into the fine, short locks of hair on the back of your neck, and it sends shivers down your spine. He feels your body quake and this is the point when he runs his tongue along your chapped lips, and you blush not because of his action(you're used to that by now) but because of your self-consciousness. You really need to use some Carmex if you guys are ever going to get around to having sloppy makeouts without you feeling embarrassed about your lips.

You shake the thought away and open your mouth, ready for the stereotypical battle that will be going on. Your fingers find their way deeper into his just-past-shoulder-length hair and tug the smallest amount. He leans his head forward as he runs his tongue over your gums. You sigh into his mouth and pull away, quickly wiping away the small dribble of spit left on your chin. Gamzee looks a little bit surprised, but then blushes, and you feel… proud. What? Was this why Gamzee always laughed when he made you blush? You don't know, but you feel prideful because you have made the perpetually cool-and composed, calm Gamzee Makara blush because you kissed him. You try not to smirk and just return to your position on top of him, ignoring the extreme heat surrounding your body because of all your nine sweaters.

Honestly, you wanted to stop there because you were too tired from "motherfuckin' surprise Christmas Eve sex" the night before. You knew you shouldn't have gotten him those handcuffs. Jesus, what had you been thinking? Now he had something new to excite torture you with, just great. But it was Christmas, and he was your lover at that, so you had to get him something other than paint or guitar picks or bike horns.

You look over at your small plastic tree with pre-strung lights and ornaments. You had your own topper and a couple of homemade things to hang on the plastic branches but you really didn't mind it. Christmas with Gamzee was the warmest and most enjoyable you ever had. Mostly because you didn't have to deal with your annoying family the whole day and everyone else was out or sleeping. You had him for a whole day, wrapped up in blankets and sweaters, and on a day where you weren't apprehensive to seek out his body heat. Only because you were cold, of course, not any other reason. Nope. There is literally no other excuse.

"Love you Karbro, Merry Christmas," Gamzee says, gently running a hand through your shaggy, short hair. You blink slowly, beginning to feel a bit sleepy.

"I love you too, Gamzee."

Okay, maybe that was another reason.


End file.
